


she saved him

by grootmorning



Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Romance, mentions of Andy Strucker, mentions of Lauren Strucker, mentions of Lorna Dane, mentions of Marcos Diaz, mentions of wounds, season 2 episode 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-02 23:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17273231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grootmorning/pseuds/grootmorning
Summary: John's perspective on what went down after he was rescued.





	she saved him

_She was a hallucination_ , was John's first reaction after glimpsing Clarice behind Andy and Lauren. He wasn't even sure if Andy and Lauren were actually there. Lauren, sure. But Andy? No way.

That thought combined with the radiating pain from his chest, sternum and lower torso wanted to make him throw up. The metal in the collar was cutting into his chin and keeping his head upright. The only thing keeping his head upright, in fact. John wasn't sure if he was going to make it. He hadn't seen his own blood in so long, he wasn't even sure if he could still bleed.

Apparently, he could. And bleed freely he did.

Clarice stepped closer, and John was about ninety nine percent sure she was real. Not even his imagination could be this good. The look of utmost sadness and fear on her face when she'd first stepped in morphed into a schooled mask of calm. She was so beautiful, John would have to remember to tell her how beautiful she was when she was filled with determination and willpower.

"Hey, handsome. You ready to go home?" Her voice was like balm to his aching ears. John's ears still rang from whatever horrible music they'd forced on him to dull his tracking senses and to hurt him with sensory overload. But god, her voice.

It hurt, but he nodded. How could he not? John just wanted to go home. "Yeah," his throat felt cracked and parched. But he wanted to make sure Clarice heard him. 

Home. He just wanted to be home with her.

Whatever he said before she'd left, John had regretted it almost instantly. It was an ugly side of him, that jealousy. He didn't realised that it had burrowed quite that deep, seeding doubt and worry about Clarice's loyalties and her love for him. John had been so scared that Jace would actually kill him, and he never would have gotten to tell Clarice that he was sorry - so fucking sorry he ever said that to her.

How long had it been since he'd told her he loved her?

John couldn't remember.

After their initial shock, Lauren rushed to unlock his chains, but Clarice just knelt in front of him, her small hands coming to rest on his knees. Her eyes roved over him, and he knew she was looking at the numerous tiny wounds the shotgun pellets had dug into him. The wounds stung, but not as bad as the tears that welled up in her eyes.

 _Don't look_ , he wanted to tell her.  _Don't._ John didn't want her to be hurt anymore.  _I'll heal once somebody takes them out._ But the words wouldn't come. John felt his eyes slip shut in weariness. He couldn't pass out now, he chided himself. Clarice and the two teenagers would never be able to carry him out by themselves. Not with his bulk and weight. He had to stay awake. Focusing on her touch, the slight pressure of her hands on his knees, John forced himself to stay awake.

When the chains finally dropped, it took everything John had not to fall off it sideways. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead into Clarice's shoulder, breathing hard. The familiar scent of her filled his nostrils and his entire being. Clarice was here.

He had to be able to do this.

She cradled his head, whispering to him. John barely heard the words, but focused on the familiarity of her voice.

The Struckers stepped forward but stopped at Clarice's firm "No" .

Trying to avoid his wounds, Clarice placed one hand against his sternum, pushing him upright before quickly stepping to his side to take his weight. She dragged his arm across her shoulder, taking as much of his bulk as she could before standing the both of them up. 

John groaned involuntarily, his hand going straight to hold his wounds. He could feel them splitting and tearing from the movement but he tamped all the pain down. They needed to get out of here. Escape first, pain later. 

With a strength he always knew she had, Clarice propelled them forwards with quick steps. John followed without a sound. The Struckers silently took up position behind them, shielding their backs and even knocking obstacles out of their way in front. 

John remembered when they had first come to them, afraid of their own powers and unsure of their strength. If he wasn't close to blacking out, he might have even felt some pride. 

Before he knew it, John could feel sunlight on his skin again, and the smell of fresh air tainted with gunpowder and ash. They were outside. There had been a battle here. Even as he struggled to take in his surroundings, Clarice was still moving them forwards by her strength alone.

He was losing his. 

It was a relief to feel his tracker senses kick in again. Marcos was the first person he felt before the others.  _Brother_ , his insides sighed in more relief. They weren't alone. There was back up. They were almost free.

Sinking to his knees after Clarice stumbled in the wake of the gunshot hurt so bad. John had to grit his teeth to keep from yelling. 

But what hurt more was watching Andy hurt the man, with the look of insane glee on his face.  _No_ , John wanted to shout.  _This was not what I took you in for. This is not a war we want_. But the words wouldn't come, and the universe was fading with a little bit of grey around the edges.

John wasn't sure how long more he would last.

Clarice kept a hand on his shoulder, making sure he was there and he was safe. It was like she was afraid to let him out of her sight again. John could understand that. But her arm was trembling as she fought the urge to stand between Andy and the Purifier, to protect. It wasn't going to be safe for anyone besides any of the Struckers now. Not with Andy's anger.

His fingers felt wet. It seemed like his wounds were bleeding more than he thought. If only Evangeline could see him now.

"Take him! Take him!" John heard Clarice yelling through a fog, and he put his arms around the next person close to him and stumbled through the portal Clarice had pulled open. Her powers were second nature to her now. She was so strong.

Lauren staggered under his weight once they were through, and two others rushed to take her place. John was propped up, and he moved clumsily in the direction they were heading. The smell of something burning and the metallic taste in the air told him who was holding him up. A rush of affection and nostalgia swept through him, and John closed his eyes against the tears that had risen unbidden. 

Brother on one side.

Sister on the other. 

Torn apart in this war that was threatening to overwhelm them both. But reunited in their love for him and fight to save him.

John was overcome. He had neither the strength nor the fortitude to pretend that he wasn't and with what strength he had left, he tightened his arms around Lorna and Marcos' shoulders, bringing the three of them together for a hug, however brief. 

They were the ones he started this journey with. 

He thought he might have heard the great Lorna Dane sniff a little before pushing him back and hauling him the rest of the way to the van. 

Once in, John found himself rapidly losing consciousness, only staying awake long enough to see Clarice climbing into the seat next to him and taking his hand in hers tenderly before passing out. 

She was safe. 

He was safe.

At the pitstop, Clarice had glared at him until he had relented to let her dress his wounds, her fingers tapping impatiently at her thigh. John didn't want her to see anymore of it. The hurt in her eyes was almost more than he could bear. It was the same hurt that had surfaced when he'd accused her in the clinic and he never wanted to see her like this again.

John would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

Her fingers pressed into his side as gently as she could, unrolling and wrapping the bandages around him as best she could. There were no tools on hand to take the pellets out so John had had to breathe through his teeth as Lorna apologised, twisting her fingers until all the metal had left his skin. That was an experience he could live without going through again.

"Sorry," Clarice had whispered. The guilt in her voice was like a knife to his heart.

With every pained grunt that he couldn't hold back, John could feel Clarice's heartbeat pick up, and her shoulders tense. 

"John, I'm so - I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you got captured."

"Clarice," her name was like a prayer on his lips. John was grateful he got to say it again. This was not her fault. "Hey."

John waited until she looked at him, with tears in her eyes and more apologies on her lips. His hands rested on her waist, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into her skin. He didn't blame her one bit. It wasn't her fault at all. If it was anybody's, it would have been his for sending her away. And Clarice still came back for him. He deserved far less.

"You saved me," John said hoarsely, with the last vestiges of his strength. He watched as her face crumple and she pressed her forehead to his, mingling their breaths. Pulling her even closer, John sighed contentedly as her hand came up to cradle his face.

Her touch chased away all the darkness within. 

John didn't remember much else until Marcos was supporting his weight up the elevator and into the apartment. Clarice shooed Zingo away as she pulled back the covers, settling him into bed and pulling back the blankets over him. Zingo jumped up then, settling with a whine by his side like she knew he needed her comfort. 

Even as he watched through a haze, Clarice pulled up a chair by his bedside, taking up her vigil as he had done once before by hers. Clarice took his hand in hers, pressing his knuckles to her lips.

"Rest," she murmured, raising her other hand to push his hair back. "Sleep."

Even without her direction, John could feel himself fading. The stress, the pain, the abject terror of the day was dissipating in the face of sheer exhaustion. His body needed to recover, John knew.

But he had to do one more thing.

Tightening his grip around her fingers until Clarice looked at him, John tugged at her weakly. She came easily. His weak strength was still stronger than most. 

"What is it?" Her voice was soft, afraid of jarring his senses again. 

John let his hand rest upon her neck, holding her close to him, half afraid that the moment he closed his eyes, he would awake in Jace's homemade torture chamber again. But Clarice felt real. As real as she could ever be.

"You're beautiful," he whispered back. "I'm sorry I said all that stuff to you."

"John - " her hand came up to push him back into bed but John took it in his, holding it to his ruined chest, just next to his still beating heart. Her hand twitched in his, worried that she might hurt him. John didn't care. 

"I love you. You know that right?"

Clarice's smile was gorgeous through her tears, leaning forward to accept his kiss, pressing her lips to his reverently and in thankfulness. Gently stroking at his cheeks and over his eyes as he leaned back into the pillows, Clarice watched as he gave in slowly to the weariness. "As I do you."

She sat back in her chair, watching as the strong John Proudstar trusted her enough to be vulnerable in front of her, and to give in finally to sleep.

All was right with them.

For now he could rest.

**Author's Note:**

> i am so happy my baby boy is saved. i was so scared for him and hey his rescue brought andy and lorna back for a bit. the rest of the season should be interesting here we go! *please don't give thunderblink anymore pain they've been through enough*
> 
> tumblr: [here](http://ltfrankcastle.tumblr.com)  
> twitter: [here](http://twitter.com/ltfrankcastie)


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